Nighttime Slaughter
by Nimeneth
Summary: A short piece of work based around the night Eomer’s riders slaughtered the orcs who had taken Merry and Pippin hostage, told from the point of view of one of the riders.


**Nighttime Slaughter**

**Summary:** Originally written as an English assignment, I decided to post it here. A short piece of work based around the night Eomer's riders slaughtered the orcs who had taken Merry and Pippin hostage, told from the point of view of one of the riders. Movie verse.

**Disclaimer:** Finn is the only thing I own. All else belongs to Tolkien. I'll clean up the sandbox when I'm done.

**Rating:** PG-13 or T, if you prefer.

**A/N:** an éored is a unit of warriors used by the Rohirric peoples. They're mostly cavalry.

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Eomer saddled his horse in the dim lighting of the stables. His éored watched him as he did it, full of curiosity at his unexpected ride from Edoras. He tightened the girth strap of his saddle and moved on to load some belongings behind the saddle. Ignoring the cautions of his comrades, a young man crept forward to stand near Eomer, waiting for the taller rider to acknowledge him.

"Finn," Eomer said, sparing a glance at the young man.

"My lord, where do you ride to?" Finn asked him.

"To banishment," he replied sourly, returning his attention to his horse.

"Banishment?" Finn heard the others ask.

"But why?" Finn asked again.

"The worm's influences have grown great, greater than I expected."

"Wormtongue." Finn grimaced. "I ride with you, in that case." He strode down the stables to saddle his own horse.

"As do I!" several others cried out, hurrying to the stalls housing their horses. Soon, the stable was a bustle of activity as men from the eodred hurried to ready their horses and weapons to ride with Eomer.

"I will not ask this of you!" Eomer said as his men assembled outside, waiting for him to lead them on.

"You do not ask us. We come by choice, for we are loyal to you and would rather ride with you as outlaws than ride at the order of Wormtongue in the King's place," Finn muttered, shifting his shield in his hand. Eomer looked at his men before turning his horse towards the gates.

"We ride north!" He spurred his horse with his heels, and his men rode from the city of Edoras and the golden hall of Meduseld, leaving the king who was not king behind them for the great open plains of Rohan.

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They came across signs of a company of orcs headed towards Fangorn later that afternoon. Eomer turned the eodred towards the eves of that dark forest and they rode on, hoping to overtake the dark beasts before they did any real damage.

That night was as thick and dark as the guttural Black Tongue. The orcs were caught unawares as they set up camp. Bearing down on them, Finn let an arrow fly, the twang of my bowstring like music to his ears. He was rewarded with a screech; he rarely missed, even in the dark. The orc camp went into chaos. The White Hand of Saruman gleamed on some of the helmets or shields that the orcs wore or carried. Unsheathing his sword, Finn sliced through the neck of one bearing the hand as he rode by, feeling the warm blood fall onto his arm. Sheathing the sword, Finn once again set an arrow to his bowstring.

The thundering of hooves on the ground drowned out Finn's snarl as he fitted another arrow to his bow, steering his horse with his knees. They were running now, those black creatures, running before the horses, but the Riders pursued them, making sure that every single one of them died in some way or another, whether beneath the hooves of the horses, to the axes or swords, or to the singing bows.

Finally, the slaughter was ended, just as the first light of dawn was touching the horizon. A cool breeze wafted through the battle field, blessedly carrying the smell of slaughter away from the men. They began to pile the carcasses of the orcs into one large pile, so they could burn the beasts. Taking a spear that had been discarded on the ground, Finn stuck it in the ground and hung a head of an orc from it as a warning. As soon as the red-orange flames began to lick the horrible black bodies, the Riders remounted and began to ride off. The stench of burning orc flesh followed them, in itself a warning for any orc that wandering across the green plains of Rohan would be met with merciless retribution.

Although they were banished from their own land, the Riders of Rohan would keep their people safe from wandering bands such as the one that had died that night. The people deserved that much. If Theoden-king won't protect his own people, Finn mused as he glanced back over his shoulder, then they would. Finn watched the smoke drift into the sky as he rode on. They would do what they could if they could do it from safely beyond Wormtongue's reach.

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Namarie,  
Nimeneth


End file.
